


Blood Velvet Pancakes

by MaplePucks



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Horror, M/M, Red Velvet Pancakes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaplePucks/pseuds/MaplePucks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High up in the mountains, James thought he would be safe with his boyfriend Matthew. Others hated him for it but out here he could be left alone and just live the way he wanted. It didn't take long for the cold hard truth to come knocking at the door, a bloody knife in hand. *Red Velvet Pancake Canadacest. Violence, language.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Snow

All was quiet at the little mountain house the two men had only just begun to call their home. It was night and the snow was falling gently, as it had been though all of the previous night and the day. It was deep, but James had seen it worse before. He couldn't say if Matthew had but probably, as they both came from the north. Maybe, if he got the chance he could ask him. The little small, insignificant things like that kept popping into his head as they sat huddled together.

Matthew was pulled close to James' side, all but deathly silent. The blanket they were trying to seek warmth and shelter wasn't doing much but James' was just thankful it was doing it's current job. He leaned over and kissed Matthew's forehead causing him to stir and look up wearily at him. The young boy looked so pale.

"Can we go inside? P-please... " He whispered, James could barely hear him. He sighed and shook his head.

"No, we have to wait a little longer. Can you do that for me, eh?"

Matthew shivered, "I-I keep g-getting colder... " He whispered back.

"Shit." James muttered but not in frustration or annoyance, it was out of worry and fear. He shifted a little and laid Matthew across his lap. "Let me see, are you keep pressure on it? C'mon, move your hand. Matt... I'll have to see it evenut--Oh God... " James held his breath, staring down at his wounded boyfriend.

He had a deep stab wound to the left side of his chest, it went in and up several inches. It was small, the blade had only been a dagger of modest width but it was enough. The way Matthew kept coughing up blood, James was sure a lung had been punctured, if not an organ close by. He needed to get in and get him the medical attention he needed to survive. James would have to do it himself, the nearest hospital was hours away. His secluded home was high up in the mountains. Damn if it wasn't secluded for a reason but that hadn't stopped this from happening. He needed to get Matthew inside. Now.

The only thing stopping him was that the would be murderer was still on his property. Currently in the house he needed to get back to.

He pressed his hand against the wound and held him close, "Just hang in there a bit longer. I'll get the bastard, I promise, but you gotta stay alive. Do that and I'll make you all the hot chocolate you could ever drink, got it?" James whispered, not able to hide the pleading whine in his voice. He needed Matthew to live through this, he'd never needed anyone as much as he needed Matthew.

Matthew panted but smiled, "I-it's a deal... " He wheezed. James wanted to cry from his shot nerves and kissed Matthew heatedly for the that response. He was going to be just fine, as soon as he could get him inside.

Suddenly a door slammed making both boys jump. Matthew covered his mouth so as not to scream from the pain and James instinctively grabbed for his hockey stick. Which wasn't there as he had been too worried about Matthew to even think about grabbing it before they ran. He was defenseless. 

"Oh boys~!" A sickly sweet voice rang out over the grounds. James heard footsteps on the stairs and then the crunch of snow. "Goodness golly, you know you can't hide from me! This blood trail in the snow is very revealing. How is poor little Matthew?" 

James growled as the man grew closer.

"I've baked you both something so wonderful, I was hoping you'd be so kind as to come out and try it! Come on, you Canadians are always so shy! Let's go~!" He laughed. James had to do some quick thinking or else this bad situation was going to go to much worse.

"Play dead, Matt. Play dead right now." He whispered frantically. 

"W-what?"

"Just do it! Play dead! Now!" He urged, holding him tight. "Play dead and play along, don't undie until I tell you. Do it, now!" He commanded, panicking as the footsteps were mere feet from their hiding spot. Matthew took the hint and went limp in James' arms just as soon as the blanket was ripped away from them.

"There you are, my pets--"

"MATTHEW, NO! No no no no no no!" James cried, stroking his hair, frantically checking him over. He checked for a pulse, shuddering as he felt how weak it really was and then let his shoulders fall. "Y-you can't be...you can't be gone. Don't be gone...c'mon, don't be dead, just don't be dead." He whispered before looking up to the person standing over them.

And he growled again, real tears in his eyes. Angry tears.

He wanted to smash that sick smile right off Oliver's face.

"Oh no...oh no that just won't do! He died far too easily! One stab wound? Just one? Hear I was hoping it would take several. James, I'm so disappointed in you! Falling in love with such a weakling. Oh well, I suppose you can just start afresh now! I'll take this trash from you!" Oliver smiled, grabbing Matthew roughly by the collar. He yanked him away from James so fast, the angry Canadian didn't have time to pull him back. But hanging there in Oliver's grasp, Matthew stayed limp, playing along.

James hoped to God he hadn't actually died.

"Give him back, fucker! He's already dead, you've done what you came here to do, give him back to me!" James spat, taking a few steps towards Oliver. The other produced a dagger so fast, James froze, watching it flash up to Matthew's neck.

"I'm not done, poppet! Perhaps I will spill the rest of his blood right here on the snow. No... that's too generous. I have a better idea, I told you I baked something! It will grow colder the longer we stand out her talking!" Oliver smiled, lowering the knife and turning to drag Matthew towards the house. James snapped into action.

"The hell you're not! Let him g--"

The butt end of the handle on the dagger came down with such force onto James' head, his whole world spun out from underneath him. He landed in the snow with a hard grunt and was unconscious in just a few seconds. Oliver smiled in triumph and grabbed his collar too.

"Now, as I was saying lads! Let's go in and get some of the fresh pancakes I made for you both!"


	2. Twist

It was a few hours later that James started to come to. He stirred and groaned, trying to pull himself out of a stupor. Where was he? He groggily cracked an eye open and saw the aged hardwood floor under his feet. His cabin, good. What was the last thing he remembered? He was in the snow, looking up at Oliver...

His head snapped up, "Matthew!" He screamed. He went to jump up and found he couldn't move. He was tied to a chair, his hands bound behind his back. So tightly, he now realized his wrists were throbbing in pain. James looked around wildly, trying to figure out what was going on. His heart sank, beside him, Matthew was also bound in a chair and he looked so much worse, staring wide eyed into his face. Too pale, even for him, and he looked legitimately limp. James felt his anger well up inside.

Matthew truly looked dead. For real.

"Oh, poppet, wipe that look off your face! Your lover is very much alive, despite that little ruse you pulled outside. Shame on you!" Oliver appeared in the kitchen door way, holding a two plates of red pancakes. He calmly walked over. "You should be very proud of me! I even doctored his chest wound! How very unfortunate that he should get another terrible wound in the process." He frowned, a fake mockingly concerned frown. James' head practically snapped off his neck as he looked to Matthew. He screamed through his teeth in frustration when he took his whole appearance in.

"You fucking ass! What the hell have you done?!"

How did he miss on his first glance at Matthew that he now had a knife buried deep in the middle of his abdomen? The hilt was the only thing visible of the dagger, it shook with every breath Matthew struggled to take. He wasn't awake, he was barely alive. James was fighting against his restrains while Oliver came walking over casually, like nothing was wrong. 

"I told you I was hoping it was going to take several stabs to get it just right." He said in the sing song voice that made James' skin crawl. "But I'm afraid two will have to do. The food I made is ready and it grows cold so quickly, I need him to eat!" Oliver smiled brightly, sitting down in front of Matthew. James squirmed to get free.

"No! I know what you've done to those pancakes! It's the same thing you did to Allen's boyfriend Alfred! I won't let you! Fuck off!" The harder he pulled the tighter his bounds got and he was in full panic mode. Matthew was going to died if he ate ANY of those pancakes. Oliver sure did his best to look offended though.

"Dear me! How can you even suggest that?! That saddens me that you would think that." He frowned, placing his hand on his chest to look wounded. He turned to the pancakes to start cutting them up, and he smiled wickedly. "I would never EVER use the same poison twice! That is for the unimaginative, droll masses to do! No, no. This is something very special. I won't bore you with the ingredients but I will tell you, it will be quite intriguing to see!" He giggled unnaturally. He was nearly done cutting the pancakes into small bites, James assumed he was going to force Matthew to eat them.

James struggled more, tipping his chair back and forth. "No! Matthew, don't open your mouth! I know you can hear me! Don't you dare open your mouth! Don't let him feed you!" He yelled. Once he was out of this chair, he was going to tear Oliver limb from limb, force him to eat the pancakes and then, rip his head off his body. 

And he was going to enjoy every damn second of it.

To his surprise, Matthew picked his head up to look at James. "I-I'm sorry, Jamie... " he breathed, panting hard. "I don't h-have the strength to refuse, h-help me. Please. I'm scared." He was shaking, his chair rattling against the ground. Oliver hummed happily, listening to the two. 

"Just try, dammit! I'll save you but you've got to do your part!" James yelled, still trying to rock out of his chair. He wasn't sure how to get free, how he would get his hands free. Or how he was going to stop Oliver from force feeding Matthew. But he was going to try everything in his power. He needed Matthew to try his best too. The injured Canadian nodded at him, clapping his jaw shut as tightly as he could manage.

"Oh, that's just so cute!" Oliver smirked and shot out his hand, grabbing Matthew's jaw roughly. He pushed his finger into the small space between his upper and lower jaw and Matthew's mouth instantly popped open. "There we go, that's a very good lad! Would you like a treat as a reward?" He asked, giddily, stabbing the fork into a slice of pancake.

"NO! STOP!" James screamed.

Oliver willfully ignored his desperate pleas, bringing the fluffy poison to Matthew's mouth. He placed it in and close his mouth for him, but made the mistake of letting go of Matthew's jaw. James could have cheered when Matthew promptly spit the not yet chewed cake out onto the floor. It was a wave of relief, Matthew still had some fight in him.

"Dearie, that's not how we eat properly, is it? No, we must chew and swallow our food. We aren't animals now are we? Try again, poppet!" Oliver sang, forcing another piece into his mouth. Whether Oliver expected Matthew to chew it this time or he was just playing, he let go of Matthew's jaw again. Another spit out piece to the floor but Oliver's smile never faded. James was out of his mind with eagerness.

"Keep it up! Spit it in the bastard's face!" He cheered on his boyfriend, still trying to pull himself free. His hands where sore and probably bloody but he didn't care.

The Englishman just smiled, putting down the fork, "Trust me, he won't be making the same mistake again. The poison is already on your tongue and you still want to fight? Shame on you, I'll shall have to teach you how to mind your manners!" He beamed sadistically. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed the hilt of the blade in Matthew's stomach and gave it a hearty twist.

James actually stopped his movements and flinched at the sound of the scream Matthew issued. It was far more then blood curdling, it made James' heart sink, all his previous eagerness and hope was wiped away in an instant. Blood spurted from the wound and his mouth as he choked on it, crying in agony. He sputtered for a few moments, sobbing, hanging his head down.

Oliver was positively glowing at this point, "Are we ready to eat like a proper gentleman now?"

Matthew nodded.

"Mattie, no! Don't you fucking give up!"

"I'm really s-sorry, James... "

"NO!"

Oliver roughly shoved a large bit into Matthew's mouth at that and he slowly began to chew. James felt his stomach drop at the sight of Matthew trying to chew it all down. It made him sick to watch. He watched Oliver delicately dab a napkin across his lips as he did. Like they were at some sick dinner party. James was frantic. The clock was ticking now, Matthew was on borrowed time. The poison was working against everything else going on. He'd be dead in minutes. As Oliver shoved another bite into Matthew's mouth, James saw red.

"Oliver, I'm going to KILL YOU!" He snarled, finally working one hand free of his binds.


	3. Goodbye

With one arm free of his binds, James assumed it would be easy to free his other hand. But Oliver had tied them both separately to the chair. Not that it was a huge problem, all James had to do was whip around and loosen his hand with his free one. However, it took up precious moments, time he didn't have to waste. Matthew was going to die with the poison in his veins if he didn't get him some sort of antidote soon. Working the knot, James was free and launched himself at the Briton.

Oliver had been so busy force feeding Matthew, James doubted that he had seen the attack coming. It was far too easy at any rate to punch him in the face, knocking him off his chair, making him spill to the floor. James had no trouble jumping on top of him and beating him, stomach, head, chest, his fists were violent and destructive wherever they struck but Oliver didn't even block. He was unconscious in minutes and James decided to leave it that for now. He wouldn't be much of a threat and he could tend to Matthew.

The dying Canadian was also bound to a chair and James didn't take the time to untie him. Instead, he grabbed the whole chair and ran from the room, into his bed room, slamming the door behind them.

"H-hang in there, Matt. I've got you now, he's not going to hurt you anymore. I know what to do, I know what to do." He kept repeating that mantra, placing Matthew with his back against the wall nearest the in bedroom bath. James looked him over and then grimaced, "Don't hate me... " He said, opening Matthew's mouth gently to stick his finger far in.

It did the trick in an instant, Matthew retched loudly, throwing up blood and pancake down onto the floor. Unfortunately, James needed his stomach to be clear, so he kept pushing his finger down his throat, whispering apologies the whole time. In a few moments, nothing but bloody bile was coming up and he stopped, kissing Matthew's forehead. Then he rushed to the window and threw it open for some fresh air and then spirited into the bathroom. Matt was no where near out of the woods yet, he was still in the thick of it.

"Matthew, I need you to tell me how you feel. Quick!" He called in, grabbing a lot of stuff from his medicine cabinet. It included gauze and other practical first aide things but also a variety of herbs and antidotes. He had grown up with Oliver over him, he knew how to mix an antidote to stave off a poison. But since he didn't know what type of poison Oliver had used, narrowing it down was going to be key.

"I-I feel light-headed a-and heavy at the s-same time. James, I-I can't breathe... ! I-I--!" Matthew started choking, taking in short, panicked gasps. James had to move faster. ALL of the antidotes would have to do. If one didn't work, it wouldn't hurt him.

When James ran back into the room, he didn't take the time to console and try to calm his boyfriend. What mattered now was getting the mix made and into Matthew. Only then could he worry about other things. His breathing was getting worse, James wasn't certain he was getting any air in at this point. Focus, he needed to focus.

Into a mortar and pestle bowl, James threw olive oil, salt,vinegar, demulcents, a bunch of herbs and other things. Quickly he pounded and stirred it together, making sure everything was mixed. It would taste like shit, he knew that but it would save his life. It was ready and James stood up, gently tipping Matthew's head back. Amazingly, he was still conscious.

"This is going to suck, but I need you drink this down. It will help, even though it will taste horrible." he said. Matthew's jaw was slack and it was easy to pour it in. As expected, Matthew gagged and screwed up his face in horror as it was poured down. But he didn't fight James on it, he took every last drop down like a champ. If James wasn't mortified at everything, he would have been proud.

After James managed to get some water in him, his breathing was returning to normal, James finally released a sigh of relief. There was still the bad stab wounds, but he wasn't poisoned. He'd be alright.

"T-thank you, Jamie... " He said softly before looking up at him to give him a small smile. "Can you u-untie me now? I-I need to l-lie down... " He asked. James moved slightly behind him, nodding.

"You got it, babe. I'll have you resting on the bed in time. You can relax now, just relax. I'll get that knife out and you'll be a lot more comfortable." He said, working to get the knots of binds lose. If he could give Oliver credit for anything, it was that he knew how to tie an impressive knot.

He was distracted trying to untie the knot, he didn't notice the door creaking open. Matthew was too out of it to notice anything either. 

Suddenly, James felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and was knocked back a foot or two into the wall. He didn't know what had hit him until he looked down at his left shoulder and shall the shaft of a long hunting arrow sticking out. He tried to move but was effectively pinned to the wall by the through and through wound. What the hell? Who had hit...

"I thought you were dead." He groaned, looking up to see Oliver in the doorway pointing his crossbow at them. But it wasn't loaded and quickly tossed aside. The Briton was bloody, bruise and limping, panting with the obvious effort it took just to stand but he was scowling.

"That bloody thing," He paused and shook his head, "Oh dear, now you've got me cursing, I just don't know what to do! You've been so naughty! You and your boyfriend! Would you please just let me kill him and be done with it already? I am growing tired and I need a rest." Oliver sighed. His steps were slow but he was limping closer and closer to Matthew. James pulled hard against the arrow.

"Why?! Why the hell do you wanna kill Matthew so badly? He hasn't done a thing to you! Not one thing! Why are you so intent on killing him like you killed his brother?!" James asked. Oliver stopped and actually smiled, he was so dangerously close to Matthew, James was starting to panic.

"It should be obvious, but since I seemed to have knocked your head a little too hard, I'll explain it. One, I'm being kind hearted. I so want him reunited with his dear brother Alfred. And second, well, there can only be one."

James didn't take the time to figure out exactly what he meant by that. He saw Oliver reaching out for the knife still in Matthew and he saw red. With one snap, the arrow was in half and he pulled himself off of it. It was still lodged in the wall behind him but he was free and launched himself again at Oliver. He tackled him and pushed him to the ground, closing his hand around his throat.

"You will NEVER touch Matthew again! You fucking die. NOW!" He yelled, so angry and so protective he began to squeeze Oliver's neck with so much force, he turned purple in mere seconds. "That's right, die. The world doesn't need any of you! You deserve this! You do!" He screamed, slamming his head down on the ground. He wasn't walking away this time, he was going to die.

"J-James... J-J-James... " Matthew coughed up more blood and looked on the verge of either passing out or dying. James looked up, and blanched. 

"Just hang on a little longer! I've got to kill Oliver, he'll just keep coming back to hurt you! I've got to kill him!" James yelled, Oliver was blue, he was still fighting, beating against James to let him go. Matthew went limp in the chair, taking short, long between breaths.

"P-please. Don't... kill him. D-don't. I-I- Don't want you t-too... "

"S-save your breath! Y-you're delirious right now!"

But James had stopped trying to kill Oliver and was with Matthew, holding his hand gently. "Y-you can't be... "

Matthew swallowed hard, closing his eyes. "M-my last wish... please. Don't kill him... " He whispered before going completely limp. He gave one last gasp and just stopped altogether.

Shaking, James quickly untied him and pulled him down to the floor, holding him close to his chest. He pushed his hair back, frantically checked his pulse and shook his shoulder. He cried out his name and then just cried, sobbing holding his love to chest. He stayed like that, until he had gathered himself enough to at least pull the dagger out of Matthew's stomach.

Crawling over to Oliver, who from the desperate wheezing James could tell was still alive, he held the blade to his throat. "He didn't say I love you to me. His last words were about you. You. Of all people. Matthew spent his last moments thinking about you, his murderer." James spat out and then threw the knife away from him, sinking to the floor. "That... that was just the kinda guy Matthew was. That's why I loved him... and why," He stood up and pulled Oliver up by his collar, dragging him over and dumping him onto the bed. "I'm going to honor his last wish. I'm not going to kill you."

"Aww, fank..ewe.. " Oliver mumbled through his swollen cheeks. James punched him again.

"It's not for you. It's for Matthew. Don't expect your recovery to be easy or painless." He snarled, storming out of the room to go get some more first aide supplies. 

He would always remember Matthew as a kind soul. Too kind for his own good.


	4. Missing You

After just a few days, James was getting really tired of doing things one handed. His shoulder was wrecked from the arrow so he had fashioned a sling for himself but it was getting annoying and getting in the way. Cleaning up the bloody mess in the house, outside digging in the backyard and his current task of cooking some food were all hindered by not having the use of his arm. Truly, if it hadn't been the last wish of his boyfriend, he would have already killed Oliver. 

Unfortunately, James could hear the docent tones of Oliver still whining and complaining in the next room over. Loudly and obnoxiously. Matthew deserved Sainthood for allowing the bastard to live as far as he was concerned.

The pot on the stove starting boiling over and James cursed, jumping to cut it down and remove it from the eye. It burned his hand and he cursed again. This was a mess. His kitchen was a mess and everything right now was a mess. He wished he had some help. James really wished he had Matthew. That would help a whole lot, he sighed, dumping the only partly ruined stuff in the trash. He missed his Matthew.

He missed having him in the kitchen, showing him how to do this stuff. He missed Matthew's form of scolding, the way he could barely even raise his voice let alone criticize him on something he had down wrong. Even now, after he had wasted food, Matthew wouldn't have been mad. Just wagging his finger at him and telling him to try again, this time without his anger. James would fume but still try again, if only to see Matthew's smile. The Canadian frowned, he missed Matthew's smile and his voice.

_"James?"_

Oh great. Now he was hearing his boyfriends voice. Was he seriously one of those people? Someone who pines and then hears exactly what he was so desperate for? No. A mistake, he didn't hear that.

_"J-James...? "_

No. No he shouldn't be hearing Matthew's voice. There was no way he should. It wasn't possible for one and two he just wasn't one of those pansy, sappy people. He gripped the sink tight with his one hand, shaking his head. Ignore it. Just ignore it. It will go away. James went to grab more food to start when he heard the creak of the door frame.

James' head turned around so fast, he thought it might have snapped off. A case of whiplash at least. But that was nothing, he thought as he rushed to the door.

"J-james I was calling y-you... " Matthew breathed, holding his side and leaning against the door frame. James was at his side just in time to catch him as his knees buckled.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?! You should be resting, Matthew! Not out here trying to get my attention! I gave you a bell for that!" He said, supporting Matthew's weight as he picked him up. Matthew groaned in pain, leaning on him.

"O-Oliver took it from me."

"WHAT?! That bastard!" James was in a rage. How dare Oliver? He's got some bold nerve. James started moving back to the room with Matthew in tow. "Look at you, you've busted your stitches. Why were you up? What is it that you needed?" He asked, frowning as he watched Matthew's bandages fill with more blood. If he wanted to live, he needed to rest. No buts about it, it was imperative that Matthew lay down and not move a muscle.

He winced, "I'm sorry. O-Oliver wanted t-tea and h-he told me to tell you. He took m-my bell s-so I had n-no choic--"

"Promise or no, I'm going to KILL HIM!" James screamed, picking up the pace back to the bed room. Matthew was crying in pain but he knew he would be ok, for now. He needed to get to that jackass first.

Kicking in the door, he went over and deposited Matthew lightly on the bed before going over and grabbing Oliver by the collar. He spotted the bell right in his hand and he snatched it from him, growling. "I gave this to HIM! Not to you! Who do you think you are, forcing Matthew to get up? He's gonna die if he pops his stitches again! Do you understand me bastard?! He'll die, for real this time!" He yelled, shaking him roughly and slapping him in the face a few good times. 

"J-James, please stop!"

"Don't even open your mouth right now! I'm still super pissed at your little stunt! Playing dead again, just so I wouldn't kill this bastard! That was messed up, Matt and you know it! You KNEW, you fucking knew how scared I was about losing you! It was a cruel joke!" He cried out, snapping at him. Maybe he'd never forgive him for it, maybe he would. But right now, he was angry and missing Matthew, his good old healthy, smiling, not hurt self. He could lash out right now, he was perfectly justified. 

He froze. Ok, perhaps not that justified. He looked to Matthew who had tears rolling down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I-I just didn't want you to... to--"

James let out a sigh and went over to him, pulling him into a tight hug. It took a few moments, but Matthew started sobbing into his chest. He rubbed his back trying to comfort him. He didn't deserve this, James was the jerk not him. He shouldn't have yelled at him. "Hey, shush. I know why. You didn't want me to become--"

"Like me, dearie? A murderer?" Oliver stated, smiling sweetly at the two. He blushed and waved his hand, as if dismissing them both. "Oh, you needn't be so dramatic, James, dear! Just go on and kiss the boy already!" He smiled at them. James glared.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You were trying to kill Matthew just days ago because he's with me and now you want us to kiss? Why? That's all I wanna know. Why." James was about ready to kick Oliver out into the snow and call it a day. The Briton kept smiling.

"Off my meds. Is that the answer you want? Or perhaps you are a jealously story line junkie? No, no, you are more the revenge type, right? Of course, I'd have no one I'd be seeking revenge on so--"

"I just want the damn truth, Oliver! Why did you attack and try to murder my boyfriend?!"

Oliver grew strangely calm, so much so that Matthew shuddered in his arms and James gulped. "There are things about this life you just don't understand, poppet. Things outside of our realm. Other worlds. Matthew isn't suppose to be here. His brother wasn't suppose to be here, dear. Oh, can't you see? I was just fixing the imbalance! I was trying to send Matthew back to where he belonged but now, he's too deeply rooted in our--"

"I think I've heard enough. Off your meds seems about right. Shut the hell up and don't you dare touch Matthew or his bell or fucking tell him to get up to get you tea again. Or so help me I will be sending you back to where _you_ belong, the fiery pits of Hell. Am I clear on that?" James snarled, laying Matthew back on the bed. He needed to tend to his wounds.

That sickly sweet smile was back on Oliver's face, "Crystal, poppet." Was his only reply. He rolled over on his own bed, turning his back to them. James was relieved and turned back to Matthew.

"Don't do what he says. Geez, your niceness really is going to get you truly killed one of these days, you know that?" He sighed, lifted his shirt to get at the bloody gauze. Matthew smiled at that and touched his face gently.

"Not so long as I have you around to protect me."

James gave him a deadpanned 'are you serious right now' look and Matthew laughed.

"Alright, alright. I won't do what he tells me any more. Did you ever stop to think that I just missed you for a second and wanted to see you muddle your way around the kitchen again?" Matthew winked and James groaned, but couldn't help the smile on his face either.

"Damn it, Matthew. I hate that your too damn sickly sweet sometimes, you know that?"

"I know, I love you too, James." He giggled. James gave him a quick little kiss and then set to work on redoing his wounds. 

Matthew didn't belong to any other world but James'. He didn't care what Oliver said. This world was a much better place with Matthew in it and that's all James wanted. As sappy as that was.


End file.
